The Forgotten Salmon
by LooneyLockhart
Summary: "What's a funeral like?" Buckley half smiled. 'Ah. She's a mourner.' He studies her one last time before saying, "You know what, I'm sure the person you bought these for, would have loved them." And with that the girl left the shop as quickly as she came.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own The Lovely Bones**

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

_**July 3rd, 1992.**_

Buckley stared at the New York Times magazine on the counter. He was now twenty-two, fully grown and had moved away from home three years before.

He had lost his baby fat but still had slightly pudgy cheeks. His blonde shaggy hair wrapped around his head and he looked at his page in the magazine boringly. His bright blue eyes echoed the sea, and had been told countless times at family functions he'd inherited his mother's "ocean eyes".

All around him were bright colored flowers. Vases, watering cans, seed packets for plants, fruits and vegetables, and gardening supplies, but mostly he was surrounded by flowers.

He lived in the same town of Norristown, Pennsylvania. He lived a fifteen minute drive to his childhood home, where his parents still lived happily. He had befriended the flower shop's owner and gotten a job there right after high school. A year into the job he began renting the apartment above the flower shop. It was a small apartment; the kitchen, living room and bedroom all one room and the bathroom was extremely small. He didn't mind the small space, since he had his garden at his parents' home and he never had friends or family over.

His life was average. He had enough friends and was very close knit to his family. He was content and didn't need any more.

He looked up from the New York Times when he heard the bell above the door chime and a costumer walked in.

A young girl, in her late teen's maybe? Dark brown hair curled around her face and seemed to drop down to her lower back. Her body curved around her hips and her legs were pale and toned. The girl looked like a zombie, a depressed looking zombie. Her eyes were red and puffy, cheeks tear stained and she wore a baggy grey hoodie and blue jean shorts with dirt stained sneakers.

She walked around the shop for a few minutes and Buckley's eyes followed her. She finally grabbed a dozen yellow roses and brought them up to the counter. Buckley moved the New York Times aside as he rung up the price for the roses.

He kept looking back at the girl as he typed in the numbers into the cash register and watched as she pulled out dollar bills and quarters from her pockets. "Thirteen ninety five please." Buckley said to her.

She dropped her money on the counter and counted with quivering hands. Buckley counted in his head to make sure it was correct, and the girl handed him all of her money. "Would you like a bag?" he asked. She shook her head and as she grabbed the flowers, she mumbled in a shaky voice, "What's a funeral like?"

Buckley half smiled. 'Ah. She's a mourner.' He studies her one last time before saying, "You know what, I'm sure the person you bought these for, would have loved them."

And with that the girl left the shop as quickly as she came.

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><p><em>Three hours later.<em>

Buckley is still at the counter, this time sitting on a stool eating ramen noodles he brought down from his apartment. It's high noon and the shop's phone is pressed up against his ear and his right shoulder.

"Are you still coming to dinner tonight Buck?" Jack Salmon asked at the other end of the phone. Buckley slurped up some of his noodles before answering, "Of course dad. I can't live off ramen noodles forever plus I love mom's cooking. Is Lindsey, Samuel and the kids gonna be there?" Buckley asked.

He could hear Jack chuckle at the other end of the line, "Of course. It wouldn't be a barbeque without them."

"Great! I can't wait to see the twins."

"Coming from the guy who saw them three nights ago." Jack said matter-of-factly. Buckley rolled his eyes, "They're the smartest five year olds I know. And Susan and them get along so well. And they're my nieces and nephew, I love seeing them."

Jack laughed, "No need to explain. I feel the same way son."

Buckley checked the clock on the wall of the shop, "Hey dad I gotta go. My lunch break's almost over and I gotta finish up and get back to work."

"Say no more. See you tonight Buckley. I love you."

Buckley smiled as he walked to the phone's receiver, "I love you too dad. See you tonight." and he hung up the phone. He had gotten use to his father saying I love you after saying goodbye to his children. It has become a well-known factor after…, after Susie died. Normally, parents don't always say I love you after goodbyes, at least the parents he knew. But after his older sister's death, his father made it a big deal to make sure any time he'd leave his children or they'd leave or they'd hang up, he'd say I love you so they'd know it.

As soon as he hung up the phone the door chimed. Buckley signed. Looks like he wasn't going to finish his lunch while it was still hot.

When he turned around he saw the same girl from earlier in the day, the mourner.

Her face was now clean and her curled dark hair was pulled into a pony tail. She smiled shyly at Buckley and walked up to the counter. He kept a poker face and sat back at the stool, pushing his bowl aside.

"Oh, don't let me stop you. I'm not gonna buy anything." She said quickly. Buckley glanced at her, then pulled his bowl back and started spinning up noodles with his fork again.

She stared at him while he ate. He felt slightly uncomfortable with it so he finished off his fork full and pushed his bowl aside. "Can I help you?" he asked.

"Sorry." the girl murmured. "I just wanted to come in and say sorry for acting weird earlier." she explained nonchalantly. Buckley shrugged, "its okay. You're a first time mourner, aren't you? Or was it just your first funeral? Why else would you ask that question?"

The girl placed her elbows on the counter and rested her head in her hands. "Yeah. I didn't know how to handle it so I left home a week ago. Called home last night and found out today was the funeral. Spent all night driving just to make it in time. Her favorite flowers were yellow roses so I stopped to get them for her." the girl explained.

Buckley stared solemnly at the counter. "Do you mind me asking who it was who died?"

"My younger sister." the girl answered. Buckley tensed at the word 'sister'. "You guys must have known each other well." The girl chuckled, "Of course. We're only five years apart."

Buckley tensed again. He had just met this girl and already he was jealous of her. She knew her sister. They were probably close and her sister probably wasn't murdered a terrible death like his sister. She had memories with her sister they both remembered. He envied her and was sad she was able to cry for her sister and he wasn't. He had barely any memories of his sister Susie; after all he was only four when she was murdered. And the few memories he had are vague and short. Maybe her laugh, or her smile or her calling his name for dinner. But that was it. Everything else was pictures and stories his family told about her, which wasn't too often.

"How old was she? Your sister." Buckley asked. "Seventeen. She had leukemia. I don't really know the specifics about it all. I decided it was best when it all started to not get into it. The less I knew about it the better." The girl glanced at Buckley. "Sorry. I'm sure costumers don't normally come in here and start talking about death with you." Buckley shrugged, "Eh, its okay. But I don't really know you from anywhere. Is you're family new to town or something?" he asked.

She shook her head. "We moved here about four years ago when my sister was in remission. My mom wanted a new start in a new town and thought Norristown was a good idea. I didn't want to come along because I didn't want to start my senior year in a new school. I was allowed to stay with my grandparents and then I came down here to be with my sister, since her leukemia came back a month after my high school graduation." she explained.

"You look young. I thought you were eighteen when you walked in here before." Buckley said lightly. The girl laughed, "Sure. I think my face aged ten years from all the stress of this. I don't even look twenty-two anymore."

Buckley looked the girl over, "Can you talk to any of your family members about your feelings for all of this?" he asked. She shrugged. "My mom is a terrible mess, ever since we found out my sister was sick. If I even tried talking to her about it she'd yell at me. I once asked her what we'd do if my sister died and my mom blew up. She yelled at me and said it would never happen, and then she drove me to the hospital and made me say sorry to my sister for even thinking she might die from leukemia. My dad doesn't talk about her at all. If she was ever brought into conversation, even when she was alive and sick, he'd stay quiet and only answer with one word. And my older brother doesn't like the idea of death so he refuses to take it seriously and is always making jokes."

Buckley hopped on his stool, "Look it's a slow day and I kind of know what you're going through so…you can stay and talk to me if you'd like."

The girl looked at him and shrugged, "I don't want you to get in trouble for not working." Buckley shrugged, "I normally get all my work done at night when I can't sleep. So the day's boring unless we have an order we need to send out or people actually come in for flowers. I'm pretty sure I won't get in trouble for talking to a mourning costumer."

The girl gave him a sly smile, "I'm Alison Burly." She held out her hand to shake. Buckley accepted, "I'm Buckley Salmon, nice to meet you." "Nice to meet you too." She said. "So you said you know what I'm going through, right? Do you mind me asking who you lost?" she asked.

Buckley thought for a moment, "Well, I don't remember her all too well, but my older sister died when I was four." Alison's face grew sad, "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry." Buckley shook his head, "its okay. She's in a better place. The only thing that really bothers me is I have few memories of her." Alison sighed, "Here I am, talking about my sister just dying but I shouldn't even complain. I at least knew her and remember her. You hardly remember your big sister. I have no right to talk anymore. I am so sorry Buckley."

He shook his head, "No, no, it's fine. You can keep talking."

She shook her head, "No. Besides now I'm kind of curious. Is it okay if I ask how she died?" Buckley shrugged, "Well, she was walking home from school and a man from our neighborhood killed her in the cornfield behind the high school."

Alison covered her mouth, "I shouldn't have asked." she mumbled. He shook his head, "I don't mind talking about it. It was the biggest mystery in our town." he explained.

Alison shook her head, "I'm just…so sorry. I feel like crap for asking." Buckley chuckled, "Naw, its okay. I think I'm the only one in my family who can talk about her this lightly because I didn't know her that well. I'm fine talking about it."

"Do you have…any memory of her?"

Buckley shrugged, "Sometimes I can remember her laugh, or her calling my name. I remember one time she drove me to the hospital when she was thirteen because I choked on a twig in the backyard. That's about it."

Alison sighed, "I should go. I'm sorry I asked you all that."

Buckley shook his head, "I told you it's okay. You don't need to leave." Alison backed up to the door, "No I have to. I feel so terrible for asking I should just leave you alone. It was nice meeting you Buckley."

Buckley watched as she left the store. He sighed and continued eating his lunch.

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><p><em>That night<em>

"Mom! Dad! We're here!" Lindsey shouted as she walked into her old home. Lindsey was now thirty one and had been married to Samuel for almost ten years and together they had three children. The oldest was Abigail Suzanne who was almost nine and then twins, Stephen and Sydney who were both five.

The kids all ran into the house happily and found their way to the backdoor and out to their grandparents. Lindsey was accompanied by Samuel and they both walked outside happily.

"Hey Lindsey!" Jack called from the picnic table set up by the back door. "Hey Samuel!" he called quickly after.

The two walked outside and waved at Abigail who was standing by the grill and Jack who had already started playing with his grandchildren. Jack's face had grown old, his hair cut short with gray mixing in with the dark brown. He hadn't developed a small belly like older men did. If he dyed the gray in his hair and lost the few wrinkles from his forehead, he'd still look like the same Jack Salmon from nineteen years before.

"Hi sweetie!" Abigail said, hugging Lindsey. Abigail's hair was now cut short, curving right under her ears. She lacked the gray hair her husband had, since she had started dying it three years earlier. She had small wrinkles around her eyes but she still wore her bright smile and her eyes shinned bright at the sight of her daughter, son-in-law and grandchildren.

"Where's Buckley?" Lindsey asked as she let go of her mother. Abigail laughed and hugged Samuel, "Where else? The flower shop. He probably won't get here for a little while longer."

"That boy is in too much of a hurry to grow up." Lindsey sighed. "Aw, leave him be. He's happy working and living on his own." Samuel said as he let go of Abigail. Lindsey shrugged and sat down next to her dad, "I'm just saying, I've never seen him do anything a normal teenager would do. He never went out to parties, or even went out that much at all if it didn't involve his garden. He has a handful of friends and have you ever seen him with a girlfriend?"

Jack chuckled, "Well I remember a certain teenage girl who loved sports and never wore makeup until her grandma started giving her makeovers. She only had one boyfriend, who she married soon after college and didn't go to parties either. Her family didn't worry about her so we shouldn't worry about Buckley." he explained, picking up Stephen and setting him on his lap.

Lindsey rolled her eyes as Samuel kissed the top of her head. "I guess us Salmon children are just odd balls." she mumbled, chuckling.

"Uncle Buckley!" Stephen and Sydney called happily when they saw Buckley walk out of the backdoor. They both, including Susan, ran up to Buckley and hugged him. "Did I miss anything good?" Buckley asked.

Lindsey and Jack eyed each other and then shook their heads, "Nope." they said in unison.

"So you were talking about me again." Buckley said sarcastically as he sat down next to Jack. "How do you know?" Lindsey asked. Buckley shrugged, "Considering the last three times I've seen you, you always talk about me."

"That's just because we worry about you." Abigail said, placing a plate of burgers on the picnic table. "What is there to worry about?" Buckley asked, confused. Abigail gave a look to Lindsey, and then returned to the grill. "Well?" Buckley said, staring his sister down.

Lindsey sighed, "Just your life in general. You're twenty-two, almost twenty-three, and you've never dated anyone. You have, like, three friends that we know of-"

"Five close friends, thank you very much." Buckley interrupted. Lindsey rolled her eyes, "Whatever. You live where you work, so you hardly go out unless it's food shopping or to mom and dad's house. We just want you to be happy and we're all, in a way, really concerned if you are happy." she explained.

Samuel cleared his throat, "I disagree. I think you're happy Buck. Lindsey's just a worrywart." Lindsey rolled her eyes again, "I am not."

Buckley held up his hands, "Look, I know it's kinda strange that I haven't had a girlfriend and I don't have that many friends but I'm content. You don't need to worry."

"That's just it!" Lindsey said, matter-of-factly. "You're 'content'! You never say 'happy'. It's always content with you. Now this was a last resort thought but Buckley," Lindsey paused. "Are you gay?"

Jack coughed nervously, "Lindsey is that appropriate dinner conversation?" Buckley had an offended look on his face, "I am not!"

"But Buckley, we'll still love you if you are." Abigail cut in. "But I'm not!" Buckley retorted. "Are you lying?" Lindsey asked. "Because you know you can tell us."

Buckley rolled his eyes, "I'm straight. To prove it would you like to see the Playboys under my bed?"

"Okay! Enough!" Jack said loudly. "Not in front of the kids." He said sternly, nodding to Stephen, Sydney and Susan sitting next to Lindsey. Stephen looked over at Samuel, "What's Playboy?"

Jack buried his head in his hands and Samuel gave Lindsey a look that read 'help me'. "Um, it's a special magazine just for adults." He said nervously. Lindsey glared at Buckley, "You're disgusting."

"Hey, if telling you about my secret stash will make you believe me when I say I'm not, it's totally worth it." Buckley said matter-of-factly. Lindsey sighed, "Why don't you get a girlfriend so you can throw those degrading magazines out?" she asked. Buckley shrugged, "I don't know any girls that I'm interested in." Abigail walked back up to the table, with a plate of corn on the cob and hot dogs. "Well I know some of my friends from my book club have daughters around your age. Want me to set you up?" she asked.

Buckley shook his head, "Blind dates aren't really my thing, mom." he said, sighing. Abigail took a seat next to him, "Well it was just a suggestion. Are their any girls who work at the flower shop?"

Buckley shook his head, "Just me, the boss and his son-in-law."

Lindsey thought for a moment as she took a paper plate, "I know this intern at my office you might like. It wouldn't be a blind date if you happened to meet at a party or something."

"No thank you." Buckley said sternly. "I'll date a girl when I find one I like. Right now I haven't."

"Because you don't go out." Lindsey shot back. "Fine, I'll go out more. I'll call up some friends tonight and make plans for the weekend."

Lindsey smiled, "That's all I'm asking. Thanks Buckley."

He rolled his eyes. 'Anything to get you to drop the subject.' he thought as he grabbed a burger and corn, avoiding the beans that were sitting in a container in front of him. He was still a picky eater like his younger self.

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><p>Buckley walked around to the back of the Flower Shop, unlocked the back door and stepped into the foyer. As he closed and locked the door, there were two doors. One was a dark screen door, and the other was a gray hard wood door. Buckley unlocked the hard wood door and was faced with a row of stairs. He climbed them, locking the door as he went up.<p>

About twenty stairs up, Buckley entered a small and messy apartment. The walls were painted white and bare. Across the room under two twin windows was a king bed, unmade and covered in clothes. Against the left wall were a television set and a beat up lemon yellow couch. The kitchen was in wreck, pots and pans left on the stove and the sink filled with cups and bowls.

Buckley made a beeline for his bed, and threw some of the clothes at the dresser next to his bed. He sat down, ripping off his shoes and letting his head hit the pillow. He really didn't want to since he was so tired, but he reached over to his night stand and picked up the telephone.

He dialed Nate's number. Nate had been his friend since he was a toddler. They had grown apart for a short while when he was a pre-teen, but they reconnected their sophomore year in high school and still remained friends.

"Hello?" Nate's voice rang into Buckley's ears. "Nate, its Buckley."

"Hey Buck! What's up?" Nate said happily. Buckley sighed, "Just tired. I was calling to see if there was any chance of us getting together with a group or something and hanging out?" he asked. Nate laughed at the other end, "You mean a party? Yeah! I'm going to one tomorrow night. It's at this one guy's house. I met him last weekend. He said his parents were leaving town for the weekend to be with family and he was gonna have a house party. I can come get you at seven tomorrow, if that's good?" he asked.

Buckley nodded, "Yeah sure. I'll just call the boss in the morning and tell him I'm gonna close the shop early. What's the name of this guy?" he asked. "Jason Burley. It's gonna be tight, Buckley! Booze, chicks, great music! You'll have a blast, man."

"Burley? Does he have sisters?" Buckley asked. Nate laughed, "Dang Buck! I never thought you'd cut to the chase so quickly."

"No, no! Not like that. I mean-"

"I never asked if he did. But don't worry dude. If he doesn't have sisters there'll be plenty of chicks at the party." Nate said reassuringly. Buckley sighed, "Alright, thanks dude. See you tomorrow."

"Alright! Catch ya on the flip side!" he said happily, and then hung up the phone. Buckley held the phone to his ear for a few more seconds, listening to the dial tone. 'It couldn't be the same person. That Alison girl said her brother couldn't take death seriously, but to throw a party after his sister's death? No way. It can't be the same person. Not at all. I'll just forget this thought ever crossed my mind.'

And with that Buckley hung up the phone and buried his head in his cold pillow.

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><p><strong>AN**

**I'm a sucker for love stories and tragic stuff and digging into people's minds and Buckley has always been curious to me since I read The Lovely Bones. Wish they had dug a bit more into his character in the movie.**

**I did re writing a bit, and changed a few things (like the main girl's name) and the story is basically gonna be a bit different than I orginally thought. **

**well tell me what you think! thanks.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own The Lovely Bones**

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><p><em><strong>Chapter two<strong>_

Alison sat on the floor of a pink and orange colored room, placing crumpled pieces of paper into a cardboard box and old clothes in another marked 'Good Will'.

"Hey Ali!" a deep voice shouted. Alison didn't move her eyes from the messy floor as she sorted the trash from the clothes. The door behind her creaked open and a man in his mid-twenties stood in the doorway. He had bushy, knotted brown hair and a five o'clock shadow across his face. He was topless, with only black and blue plaid pajama bottoms on. He had a bag of Doritos in one hand, and a Pepsi in the other.

Alison glanced at the man, "Nice breakfast." she murmured. The man rolled his eyes, "Mom and dad just left and it would mean a lot if you could finish this up and then help me set up for the party."

"Jason do you really think it's the right thing to throw a house party the day after your little sister's funeral?" Alison asked. The man named Jason rolled his eyes, "Your way of dealing with this is to 'talk about your feelings'. Mine is to get plowed and have a good one night stand. Don't judge." he said, turning and walking away.

Alison groaned and threw a pink sweater into the Good Will box. "Typical thing; Mom and dad leave for the weekend to be with Auntie Jane and uncle Todd, leaving me with stupid Jason who acts like he doesn't care and makes me do all the work at emptying Shannon's room. This blows."

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><p>"This blows." Buckley groaned as he dug throw the pile of somewhat clean clothing next to his bed. He was on his lunch break and wanted to find a nice pair of clothes for the party that night. Sadly he was stuck in his gray Beatles t-shirt and blue jeans and could not find another clean shirt, nice enough for the party.<p>

"I'm out of laundry soap so I can't clean any of this in time." He grumbled, tossing a dark blue button downed shirt across the room at the dirty clothes hamper. He didn't understand why he wanted to dress nice for the party. He'd never been to a house party before, or even drank a beer. How were you supposed to dress for a house party?

'Well…I might meet a girl tonight so maybe I should dress nice. But, gosh, what if by the time Nate and I get to the party all the girls are wasted and are so drunk they don't even care what I'm wearing or can't keep a steady conversation going? I shouldn't waste my time and just go like this.'

Buckley jumped off his bed and made his way down the stairs to the shop. His boss should already be there, checking the inventory and checking the family safe. And, like on cue, once Buckley walked through the screen door into the flower shop the other door behind the counter was open, and a pudgy man stood with a clipboard staring at the many shelves of frozen flowers and vases.

"Hey boss." Buckley called as he perched himself up on the stool behind the counter. "Huh?" The man grunted glancing behind him. "Oh, hello Buckley!" he called nicely over his shoulder, and then returned back to work.

"How's the family?" Buckley asked, picking up the New York Times on the counter. "Good, good. Melinda and I are going on a vacation in a few weeks so we're gonna close up the shop until we get back."

Buckley grew slightly worried when we heard this.

"Don't worry; you'll be off with pay."

Buckley's worry left him quickly as he went back to the New York Times.

"Why are you going on vacation?" Buckley asked. "Just need to get away. Get some alone time before we meet little number six." The boss laughed. Buckley half smiled. The boss was talking about his sixth grandchild. His two daughters were both married and one had three girls and the other had two boys. The one who was pregnant was the one with two boys and, wouldn't you have guessed it, she's having another boy.

"Well I hope you guys have a good time." Buckley called. The boss walked out of the other room and up to the register. He was bald, with gray eyebrows and he had a round belly and a gray beard, like Santa Claus. Funny thing is, he volunteers as Santa Claus at the mall every year at Christmas.

"Thanks Buckley. So what are your plans for tonight?"

"Going to this party with my friend Nate." He said. The boss laughed, "Oh I remember partying when I was young."

Buckley stiffened a chuckled. The man who looked like Santa…was partying?

"Enjoy it now Buckley. Have fun tonight." The boss said. Buckley nodded, "Will do boss." Buckley said, half sarcastically. After all, he was only going since his sister pointed out the other day that the way he lived made his own family question his sexuality. He needed to do something with his life. He wouldn't admit it out loud but, he might be content, but he was also slightly bored.

Hopefully that party tonight will take the boredom out of his life for a little while.

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><p>Alison finished packing up her younger sister's bedroom a few hours before the party. All the clothes were in the garage for Good Will and all the trash were over flowing the trashcans outside. The bed sheets and pillowcases were sitting in the laundry room and all the pictures and trinkets that sat on the shelves were wrapped in newspaper and stuffed in three different boxes she sent up to the attic.<p>

The walls were too bright without all the posters and photos covering it, and the bed looked too white without its butterfly comforter on it. The dresser and shelves were empty and ghost like. Alison didn't like the feeling of the room. The only thing left she needed to do was take the orange curtains down from the windows, but that could wait until tomorrow.

She joined Jason downstairs in the living room at five o'clock. She set out the millions of coasters her mother owned on every surface she could find while Jason poured bowl after bowl of chips he had bought that day for the guests. A cooler of beer sat in the kitchen, and he had also bought pacts of Pepsi for all the "squares" who didn't want to drink.

"I really don't agree with this Jay." Alison said as she tried stuffing a bag of ice into the freezer. "I don't really care. If you don't want to stay, leave. I have no problem with it." Jason said boringly as he searched the phone book for a pizza place.

"You know I can't, Jason. Someone has to be the sober supervisor at this stupid party." She said matter-of-factly. "I need to make sure nothing gets broken and no one goes into mom and dad's room or Shannon's."

Jason rolled his eyes, "You're such a square!"

"And you're a sixteen year old trapped in a twenty-five year olds body, who still lives at home with his parents and works at a Car Shop." Alison retorted.

"You still live here too, miss college drop out."

Alison groaned, "I didn't drop out! I simply choose not to go back for my last two years because I knew mom and dad couldn't afford my education and Shannon's hospital bills. I really don't mind working at the mall Toy Store than doing something a bit more…worthwhile."

"Liar's go straight to hell, no stops. Remember that when you're getting third degree burns to your pretty little face." Jason said matter-of-factly as he took three bowls into the living room.

Alison rolled her eyes. Jason always needed the last word.

The doorbell rang and Alison quickly shoved the last of the frozen treats into the fridge. Jason put an AC/DC CD in the stereo and quickly opened the door, letting in a group of guys, all cheering and carrying in six pacts of beer.

Alison rolled her eyes as she leaned against the door frame into the kitchen. Tonight was going to be a long night.

As AC/DC blared on the stereo, more and more people walked through the open front door. Soon, the whole living room was full but more people kept walking in. People were crowding into the kitchen, and the downstairs' den. Alison watched the party grow from the second level, sitting behind the railing of the stairs and making sure no one made their way up.

She never talked to anyone in Norristown, since she had either been away at college or visiting with her sister at the hospital. She never saw a reason to get to know anyone in the town. From looking at all the people at the party, she figured her brother knew a lot of people in Norristown. But she felt slightly surprised when a familiar face walked through the front door with another group of people.

Buckley stuffed his hands deep into his jeans pocket, his shoulders stiffly up and eyes staring at his shoes. He could already tell from the loud music, smell of beer and smoke in the air that he wouldn't like the party.

Nate stood next to him, grinning ear to ear. He had shaggy brown hair and wore a jean jacket, black Aerosmith t-shirt and jeans. His left hand held a six pack of beer, and he wrapped an arm around Buckley and shook him, "This is gonna rock! Don't you think so Buck?" he asked excitedly.

Buckley nodded, shrugging his friend's arm off his shoulder. Nate handed the six pack to Buckley, "Bring that to the kitchen, will ya? I gotta find Jay and tell him this party rocks."

Buckley nodded and Nate quickly pushed past the crowd and disappeared. Buckley sighed, and looked in all directions to find the kitchen. He had no idea he was being watched from the second level.

Buckley mumbled 'excuse me' as he made his way right off the front door, and into the yellow and white kitchen. He averted his eyes when he saw a girl sitting on the kitchen counter in a very see through tank top, making out with a guy who held a beer in his hand. The rest of the kitchen was filled with people devouring pizza that had been delivered a half hour before Nate and Buckley arrived or grabbing beers out of the cooler.

Before Buckley could walk to the other side of the kitchen to put the beer in the cooler, a buff looking guy grabbed them out of his hand and shouted, "Beer!" and cheers evoked throughout the kitchen. He dropped four beers into the open cooler and took two for himself, then disappeared past Buckley and into the living room.

'If this is what college parties were like, I'm glad I never went.' Buckley thought solemnly. He glanced around the room to see if there was anyone sober enough he could have a good conversation with. Sadly, it appeared everyone was busy dancing or drinking to talk.

Buckley sighed and walked over to the cooler. Luck for him, he spotted some Pepsi buried under the ice water and beer. He reached in and pulled one out, then quickly exited the kitchen just as a crowd walked in. He missed Alison, who walked into the kitchen with the group, looking for Buckley.

She groaned as she looked around and didn't see the blonde haired boy she met the day before. "I must have just missed him." she mumbled, turning on her heal and walking back out of the kitchen.

Buckley walked past Nate, who was toasting a beer to a guy Buckley thought was Jay, the host of the party. He walked past the staircase upstairs and found a staircase downstairs. He followed the stairs, and held a hand over his nose and mouth as he walked into a cloud of smoke.

If he squinted his eyes, he could see a group sitting on two different couches, eyes glazed over; passing around what Buckley believed was a joint.

Buckley quickly went back upstairs, hoping he wouldn't get a contact high from being down there for a full ten seconds.

He walked to the staircase leading up to the second level and followed those stairs. Hopefully no one was up there doing anything he didn't want any part of. As he stepped up the stairs, his thought from the day before were answered. Along the wall was family photos, and in one of the photos was a slightly younger version of the girl, Alison, he met yesterday.

He noticed a photo of Alison and her brother and in the middle of them was a younger girl, with light brown hair that reached to her ears and freckles stretching across her pointed nose. She had bright green eyes that almost matched Alison's and her brother's.

He stepped up the last few stairs and onto the second level. He sipped at his soda as he looked at every last photo hanging on the wall. As he walked he noticed the pictures of Alison's younger sister never showed her when she was sick. In fact, all photos of her grew younger and younger. It seemed it never showed pictures of Alison's sister in her teen years or her late childhood.

He glanced over the banister at the party below him. It didn't seem like anyone could move anymore, they were all so close. The front door was now closed, and Aerosmith now played on the speakers. Time seemed to be lost once you entered this house. Buckley hadn't even noticed when the AC/DC CD's had run out and they switched to Aerosmith.

He continued down the hall, passing closed door after closed door. As he reached the end of the hallway he was faced with a door. He didn't know what had overtook him, but he felt like peace and quiet was behind the door in front of him.

He reached against the cold doorknob and walked in.

The pink and orange walls looked gray against the darkness. Buckley kept the door cracked as he walked over to the windows and drew back the curtains to let in the moon light.

The room was bare, with nothing but furniture and a twin mattress. It seemed like once he entered the room all the noise from the party disappeared and all he could hear…was Susie.

He knew this room belonged to Alison's dead sister. He stood in the room of a dead girl. It was different from when he'd stand in Susie's room, which was now a guest room for when Abigail Suzanna, Stephen and Sydney wanted to spend the night with Jack and Abigail.

This room still had a certain smell to it. It smelled like peaches and chocolate. When Buckley had been old enough to remember anything, the smell of Susie's room had become musty and stale. It wasn't the same. The room he was in now, it smelled fresh and like the girl had just been in the room days before.

And in the back of his mind, he could hear the whisper of his name, from a voice that he thought was Susie's. It kept calling to him, at some parts it sounded happy, another it sounded scared and worried, and another angry. All the different emotions of her voice when she called his name all those years before.

It tugged at his heart hearing the voice that hadn't been voiced for years. He stood in the room of a dead teenager, who was probably in Heaven. Maybe she had met Susie up there. Maybe they had become friends.

He touched the orange curtains and stared up at the moon that shinned in. He set his Pepsi can on the window sill so he could tuck his free hand in his pocket.

'Buckley…Buckley…Buckley…'

"Buckley?"

At the sound a real voice, he jumped and turned around to see the silhouette of someone standing in the doorway. The person closed the door shut, and once the moon light hit her face Buckley knew it was Alison.

"I thought I saw you walk in." She said, walking up to the window where he stood. He glanced at her, "You're brother seems slightly cold hearted for throwing a party after his younger sister's death."

Alison nodded, "He's just having a hard time dealing with it all. Look at my parents. They chose to leave their last two children home and traveled to New Jersey to visit my auntie and uncle. They didn't even invite us along."

Buckley nodded, trying to remember how his family dealt with Susie's death the first time it hit. Sadly, it was all too foggy for him.

"Your sister was very pretty." Buckley said. Alison chuckled, "I thought so too. She thought she was ugly every time she lost her hair. She loved wearing wigs and when she didn't have a wig, she'd insist on brushing and styling my hair, which is why it's so long. She loved it long."

Buckley felt the need to change the subject. "When are you parent's going to be back?" he asked. Alison shrugged, "A week maybe. Knowing Jason, he's probably gonna be gone every night, and I'll be stuck ordering pizza the rest of the week."

Buckley thought for a moment. "Do you like Italian food?" he asked. Alison gave him a confused look, "That's a strange question."

"Can you answer it?" Buckley asked. Alison nodded, "Yeah, my mom made it every Saturday when my sister was alive."

Buckley picked up his Pepsi, and then continued. "My mom is making spaghetti and meatballs Monday and the whole family is invited for dinner. It's like a thing in our family that we go to my parents' house every three days for dinner. You can't keep eating pizza every night so how about you come over for dinner?"

Alison was taken aback by his offer. "I just met you yesterday…" She trailed off.

"And I'm feeling generous. You should take the opportunity and say yes." Buckley shot back.

"Are you saying you're not always generous?" Alison asked. "Not to strangers, no. But I'd like to help and my mom does make pretty good spaghetti." Buckley explained. Alison shrugged, "Sure."

Buckley's lips twitched. He was slightly confused but decided to follow the twitching before Alison looked at him like he was insane. Turned out the twitching was a message from his lips that they wanted to smile.

"Do you realize some people are smoking pot?" Buckley asked. Alison nodded, "I told them to keep it in the basement but the smoke traveled to the living room. I'm gonna make everyone leave in a while. It's almost midnight and I'd like some quiet sleep."

"Midnight?" Buckley asked, shocked. Alison nodded.

Buckley rubbed his temples, "It feels like I just got her five minutes ago." He picked up his soda and took a drink, then spit in back in the can. "My soda's warm!"

"And probably flat. It's been a while since you got here Buckley. I saw you walk in at like seven."

Buckley shook his head. He needed to stop blacking out and going into la la land. He was probably standing in this room for hours before Alison found him.

"I need to go find Nate. I have work tomorrow." Buckley said, walking towards the door. "Do you work every day?" Alison asked, following him out the bedroom door.

"Not on Wednesday or Thursday. Those days I work on my garden and try to do laundry." he said, turning the banister and going down the stairs. "Good to know." Alison mumbled before bumping into Buckley when he stopped on the last step.

"Hey Buck." Nate said happily, holding a beer in his hand. Nate's eyes were slightly glazed over and Buckley could smell the alcohol on Nate's breath. Looked like Buckley was driving Nate home.

Nate glanced at Alison, then looked above him and noticed the line of closed bedroom doors on the second level. He grinned at Buckley, "Buck you sly dog, you. I didn't know you had it in ya!" he said, playfully punching Buckley in the arm.

Buckley rolled his eyes, "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say Nate. Time to get you home." he said, taking the beer out of Nate's hand and handing it to Alison. "Will you take care of that please?" he asked. She nodded. "So, on Monday do you want me to stop by the flower shop?" She asked.

Buckley nodded as he led Nate through the slightly less crowded room, "Come by around five, okay?"

Alison nodded and watched as Buckley led Nate out the front door.

Buckley got Nate back home by twelve thirty, waking up Nate's mother. She thanked Buckley and helped her son inside.

Buckley left Nate's car keys with his mother and walked down the street to his parents' house, hoping the front door was unlocked and he could crash in his old room for the night, and then his father could give him a ride to work in the morning.

As he walked he thought. It only took a few moments before he was passing "The Green House", that was now owned by a new family with five daughters. He'd never met the family that lived there, and avoided them at the block parties over the years. It wasn't their fault his sister died, but it felt weird to him to make friends with a family living in the house his sister's murderer lived in. Not to mention when he was seventeen and he and Nate were spying on the family, Buckley noticed a very large black spot in the garage. Nate said it must have been paint, but Buckley knew that blood turned black over time. He couldn't help thinking that's where Susie's body was for a moment all those years ago. That Susie was so close to them but the police and his family had just missed her. He forever since completely avoided that house, and even tried his best not to look at it.

He thought back to when he was younger, and his sister had told him he made crazy accusations of seeing Susie when he was four. Seeing her walk into his room at night and kiss him on the cheek, seeing her in different corners of the house, hearing her voice. At first Buckley thought that was just his younger self trying to cope with never seeing his big sister again, but as time grew he'd see fading images in his memories of him looking up from his bed and seeing a transparent mousey blonde haired girl kiss him and whisper a "Good Night Buckley" before disappearing. Not to mention when Lindsey and Samuel first announced their engagement, Buckley had seen Susie across the room under the old clock. He didn't know if he should call out her name or not, but before he could completely comprehend it, Susie had vanished.

As he turned the corner onto his street he felt a strange breeze, and heard the bark of a dog. Buckley loved dogs, a trait in the Salmon family. He could still remember the death of the family dog Holiday years before. He went the way any dog should; peacefully, and in his sleep. Truthfully, that's how anyone thing or person should go. His whole family cried for Holiday, but they never got a new dog. Holiday was too special to the family to ever replace. The only new dog that came into the Salmon life was the golden retriever Lindsey and Samuel had gotten their children three years earlier, that Abigail Suzanna named Oatmeal since that was her favorite food at the time.

Buckley wondered if Holiday had met up with Susie in heaven. Holiday didn't die until Buckley was ten, so Susie had been without her childhood dog for six years. He imagined Susie in a white dress and angel wings, sitting on a cloud with a halo floating over her head, picking at the cotton candy like cloud boredly. Then, suddenly, a bark is heard. Susie jumps up and holds out her arms to the golden blur that runs to her and tackles her down, dirtying the white dress. Susie laughing and crying as Holiday would lick her face and Susie hugging him. The thought brought a smile to Buckley's face. He hoped it would be like that when his father died and got to see Susie, and his mother and then Lindsey and himself: Susie waiting with Holiday for her beloved family members to arrive. Maybe she was even with Grandpa and Grandma Lynn.

When Buckley was tired and alone, he'd think in the back of his mind how he was waiting for death. How he believed the world of the dead would be better than the world of the living. He could see his long lost sister when he was dead, and his father would actually appear to be happy to him. Buckley wouldn't feel sad anymore, and he wouldn't have a slight bitter resentment towards his mother still for leaving him all those years ago. All those feelings would disappear in heaven. Lindsey would play with Susie around the clouds and they'd race with Holiday and finally Buckley would be old enough to play too. To run and jump with his big sisters, but at the same time understand what they were saying fully and talk about serious matters with both of them. Buckley held on to the hope that death would be better than his life living could ever be.

Finally, he reached his childhood home. He glanced at the garage and saw something like a movie playing. Day light and the garage door open, and the Mustang his father owned pulling out of the driveway and cutting across the yard, driven by his sister and lying pale in the backseat was his younger self.

He shook his head and climbed the steps of the house. He jimmied the doorknob and thankfully, the door was left unlocked.

He slowly walked into the house and looked around in the dark. No one seemed to be in the living room or in the kitchen. It was quiet.

He closed and locked the front door, and found his way in the dark to the staircase and up to the second level. He could hear the small snores coming from his parents' open door and he tiptoed past them and into his old bedroom.

He climbed into the bunk bed he slept in for his whole life at home, and set the old fashioned alarm clock for seven in the morning. He would only get about six hours of sleep, but hopefully he'd get to sleep on his lunch break.

He crawled under his covers and as he closed his eyes, he felt like he was four again, ready to drift into sleep land where everything was made of Legos and dinosaurs were the family pet instead of dogs. Only in this dream land, everything was black and the only light was coming from a house that looked identical to Alison's.

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><p><strong>AN**

**tell me what you think. Thanks!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own the Lovely Bones. Read Authors Note at the bottom if you're confused.**

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><p><em>Chapter Three<em>

Alison stared boredly into the rows of Barbie dolls, trying not to yawn as she marked down the prices.

It was Monday morning, and she wasn't in the mood to be up at nine o'clock in a bright and colorful toy store no one shopped in this early in the morning.

A fellow employee, a middle aged woman named Marge, came up next to her, kneeled down and started placing a few Ken dolls on the shelf under Barbie.

"You okay, Al?" Marge muttered, glancing up at the sleepy brunette. Alison nodded, but didn't hold back her sigh. Everyone she worked with seemed to be asking her that, it was one of the side effects of someone in your family dying.

"How you holding up?" Marge asked. Alison sighed again, "Tired. Jason forgot his key so he rang the doorbell a good twenty times at three in the morning then begged me to make him Ramen noodles. I ended up just letting him eat the frozen pizza in the freezer. He was drunk, I doubt he cared."

Marge gave her a confused look, before shaking her head. "Uh, well, okay." She muttered. Alison glanced down at her and then a question struck her.

"Hey, Marge,"

Marge looked back up at her, before standing up to her full height, which were only a few inches taller than Alison.

"Do you know the Salmon's?" Alison asked curiously. Marge's face grew sad, and she nodded grimly, "Who in this town doesn't?" she whispered.

Alison nodded, "What do you know about Buckley Salmon?" she asked curiously. Marge pondered this, "He's the littlest one, I believe. He was only about three or four when the Salmon girl died. Tragic really."

Alison nodded, sighing. That wasn't really the information she wanted to know, but she dealt with it.

"He's a bit of an odd ball, nowadays." Marge went on. Alison perked up, looking back towards Marge. "Odd how?" she asked. Marge shrugged, "He doesn't really talk to anyone. He barely leaves that flower shop. My son went to high school with him, of course he was a freshmen when Buckley was a senior but," She leaned a bit and waved Alison to follow suit.

"He was a bit moody in school; at least my son says so. Never talked to anyone, never went to any school functions, and one time my son saw him storming out of the principal's office, shouting at the guidance consular about something. Very odd to me. Out of all the Salmon's, I'd steer clear of him; his sister is the saner one."

"The one that died?" Alison questioned.

Marge shook her head, "No, no, the living Salmon girl. What's her name, uh, Lauren or something." She shrugged, "People who don't personally know the Salmon's never use their names, so I never really learned them. But the living Salmon girl did make a name for herself; she was a soccer star in high school, always in the paper. She went far."

Alison nodded a curious look on her face. _What's different about Buckley?_ She thought.

* * *

><p>Buckley held the shop phone between his shoulder and cheek, listening to the ringing as he counted up the money in the register.<p>

On the fifth ring, his mother picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, mom, it's Buckley."

"Hello sweetie. What is it?"

Buckley paused, staring at a crisp five-dollar bill as he thought this over. How was he going to tell his mother he was bringing a girl he's had two conversations with to dinner that night?

"Uh, I just wanted to let you know I'm bringing a guest with me for dinner."

"Who? Nate?" She asked curiously. Buckley could hear water running in the background and figured his mother was in the middle of washing the vegetables for the dinner.

"No, uh, a girl," he trailed off, placing the money back in the register and pulling some coin rolls out to begin placing the many pennies in order.

"A girl?" She asked after a moment.

Buckley nodded, a little offended at the sound of surprise in her tone. Did his family really think he was playing for the other team?

"Yes, a _girl_. Her name is Alison and I figured she could use a good home cooked meal,"

"Alison what?"

Buckley paused, wondering if it was a good idea to use her last name. This was a small town, word traveled fast and he didn't want to go reminding his family that the girl he was bringing home had recently lost her sister; he knew how those memories stung.

"I don't know her last name. I met her over the weekend."

"You're bringing home a girl you just met?" his mother asked, slightly surprised. Buckley nodded, dropping a few pennies back into the register; his hands were shaking surprisingly. "I just thought it would be nice to have a new face at dinner. I could always tell her she can't come,"

"No, don't do that." His mother sighed. "Well, alright. I'll set another place then. Would you like to talk to your father?" she asked. Buckley paused, thinking it over. He figured he'd end up retelling the same story to his dad now, when he'd prefer doing it tonight so Lindsey could hear it too. "No, I'll see him tonight."

His mother sighed again, "Alright. See you tonight."

"'Kay, bye." He leaned back and hung up the phone, not taking the time to listen to her tell him goodbye.

The store was basically empty the rest of the day, and by five the boss's son-in-law, Michael, walked through the door and over to the counter.

He was a middle aged man, who worked at the flower shop part time and at the high school as a science teacher full time. The boss thought it cheaper to only have the three of them employed, since the shop was only really busy three times a year. Buckley didn't mind though, it was easier than memorizing over a dozen employees names.

Michael took Buckley's place behind the counter, while Buckley tapped at each pocket on his person to make sure he had everything before leaving; car keys and his wallet.

He stood outside the shop waiting, not wishing to wait inside and be forced to make painful small talk with Michael. Even when they had a shift together, they barely spoke. Buckley didn't really know why, but he didn't have interest in talking to Michael and Michael didn't have interest in talking to him, so he didn't want to force it like most civil adults do.

By five fifteen he saw someone running down the street, hurrying past the townspeople and speeding to a stop in front of Buckley. He was quite surprised to see she had dressed up.

It wasn't much, but he could tell it was an outfit you didn't just throw on. She had on a white long-sleeved blouse that was possibly see-through, but she had a matching white undershirt under it. With that she had a black skirt that stuck closely with her legs until it ended just above the knee, and short two inch heeled boots that looked almost like velvet. Her hair was pulled out of her face into a ponytail, but it didn't stop a few stray brown hairs to peek out and frame her face.

"You look…nice." Buckley finished, continuing to look her over. He noticed a medium sized pink box in her hands and wondered what it was.

She shrugged, brushing out her skirt. "I didn't want to look like a train wreck when I'm getting a free meal. Oh, I hope your family likes cheesecake." She said, nodding towards the box.

Buckley made a face, wordlessly letting her know he doesn't enjoy it.

She rolled her eyes, "I said your family, not you."

He shrugged, "I'm sure they will. Come on, we're already late." He said, walking towards his station wagon.

She eyed the curious vehicle, never having imagined this was the type of car Buckley drove. Of course, Buckley wasn't the average guy she met. She slid into the passenger's seat and threw on her seatbelt as she looked around the wagon. There were a few bags of seeds on the floor by her feet, and as she glanced into the back she saw some spare t-shirts and, what looked like, dirt.

Buckley noticed her staring and he cleared his throat, suddenly becoming a bit embarrassed, "I haven't had time to clean my car, so just ignore the appearance…and the smell," he muttered, quickly starting the engine and driving up the street.

Alison took in a whiff of air, but all she smelled was dirt and grass, reminding her of when her mother would garden and she'd come inside covered in the dirt. She always loved that smell, but she decided not to tell Buckley that it didn't bother her.

He kept stealing glances at her. He felt nervous for some reason and wondered if she'd think his family was weird. Suddenly, he remembered something.

"Just a warning, my family might swarm you with questions." He told her, taking a left turn on a street called "Acorn Drive."

Alison gave him a curious look, "Why? About my sister?" she asked. Buckley shook his head, "I left out that little detail, and could you maybe not mention it? The mention of a sister dying isn't a really easy topic in my house."

Alison nodded, feeling a bit guilty for bringing it up, even if it was an honest question. Buckley noticed the look and got her attention again, "I've just never brought a girl over for dinner before, so they'll probably be curious about your relationship with me."

Alison nodded, staring down at her lap. "So, you've never had a girlfriend?"

Buckley shook his head, "Never really met the right girl."

"Never kissed a girl?" Alison asked, a little surprised. Buckley blushed, but silently nodded his head. Alison's eyes widened a bit; she'd never met a guy Buckley's age who had never even kissed a woman.

"You do…want to kiss _girls_, right?" She asked after a moment. Buckley's face turned so red it was almost as if all the blood vessels in his face busted. "Yes!" he snapped quickly, reminded of the last conversation he had had with his family.

Alison smirked, letting out a small giggle. Buckley rolled his eyes, a pout on his face as he turned down the familiar neighborhood and pulled up to his home. Alison grinned, stepping outside. "It's adorable. This is where you grew up?" She asked, turning around to look at him.

Buckley nodded, walking around to her and pointing towards the door, "They'll be waiting for us." She nodded, gripping the pink box that held the cheesecake a bit tighter as she followed Buckley up the steps.

He held the door open for her and she stepped inside, studying the room. It was painted bright yellow, with an average sized, new looking television sitting in the far corner right next to the dining room. A brown colored couch sat under the window, with a small wooden coffee table sitting in front of it. An old colonial clock sat on the far wall near the fireplace, and Alison noticed it was almost five thirty.

Hurried footsteps came from the kitchen and dining room, and the two young adults were greeted by Buckley's family.

"Hi, I'm Lindsey, Buckley's sister." Lindsey said, holding out a hand to shake. Alison shifted the pink box in her hand and took Lindsey's, smiling. "Pleasure to meet you, I'm Alison."

An older woman with dark brown hair walked up to her, a large smile on her face, "Abigail, Buckley's mother. Let me take that for you," she said, holding out her hands for the box. Alison nodded, "It's a plain cheesecake, I hope that's okay."

Abigail continued to grin, shaking her head, "Cheesecake is fine," She said, just as she turned back to the kitchen she leaned towards Buckley, "She's very cute," She whispered. Buckley ignored the comment from his mother.

Samuel walked up behind Lindsey, "Samuel, Buckley's brother-in-law. Great to finally meet a lady friend of Buck's." He said, sending a small smirk over at Buckley. Alison nodded, before noticing two men standing behind the crowd, waiting for their moment to introduce themselves. Buckley noticed one of them first, "Hal!" he said happily, walking around Samuel and Lindsey and over to a dark haired man that looked to be in his forties. He looked like an older version of Samuel, only tanner and his hair was bit longer.

"When'd you get back?" Buckley was asking. Hal shook his head, looking over in Alison's direction. "Later, later. Who's your friend?" he asked, sending a warm smile over her way. Lindsey waved Alison into the family room and Alison walked up to Hal and Jack.

Alison held her hand out for Jack first, and he took it in both hands, "Jack Salmon, Buckley's father."

"Alison, lovely to meet you Mr. Salmon. You've raised a very good son." She said sweetly. Jack chuckled, shaking his head modestly. Hal took a step up to her and took her hand next. "Hal Heckler, Samuel's older brother and family friend. Great to meet you, Alison."

"Here, sit," Jack said, waving for Alison to take a seat. She did, before hearing the sound of footsteps coming from the second level.

"Uncle Buckley!" Three voices called in unison as Abigail Suzanne, Stephan and Sydney ran into the family room and over to Buckley. "Uncle Buckley, I climbed all the way to the top of the monkey bars at school today!" Stephan said proudly. Buckley made a face of pure surprise, pulling the three children into a hug, "That's amazing! I still can't do that!" he said, indulging the five year old.

Stephan's mouth dropped as he hugged his uncle, "What?! It's so easy!" he said seriously, before Sydney grabbed his hand and they ran after Abigail Suzanne down the stairs towards the back door.

"You're children?" Alison asked Lindsey and Samuel. They both nodded.

"So, how did you and Buckley meet?" Lindsey asked curiously. "Hold on, wait, I had a question. When did Hal get back?" Buckley interrupted, turning to face his sister. Hal, who stood on the wall the colonial clock was on, shook his head, "I want to know how you met too."

Alison looked towards Buckley, noticing the slightly annoyed look on his face. Alison felt a little guilty for all the attention she was getting. She looked back at Lindsey, "I walked into the flower shop he works at the other day and we just started talking."

"Oh, you like flowers?" Jack asked, picturing her joining Buckley when he'd work on his garden here every week. Alison nodded, "They're pretty, and my mom had a garden, but I've never really gardened before."

"How old are you? Twenty?" Lindsey asked, wondering if she was in college or not.

"Twenty-two."

"Where do you work?" Samuel asked.

"At the Toy Palace in the mall." She said, wringing her hands. She always hated telling people where she worked.

Lindsey and Samuel seemed to share a silent look, which Buckley noticed but Alison didn't. It wasn't a rude look, it was a curious look; like why a twenty-two year old woman was working at the toy store. They were also silently debating on if they should ask about her education.

"Could you get me a discount on some toys? The twins' birthday is coming up." Jack joked, laughing. Alison laughed with him, along with the rest of the family.

Abigail walked into the dining room and was setting things out on the table.

"Do you need any help, Mrs. Salmon?" Alison called, moving to get up. Lindsey shook her head, waving Alison to sit down, "I'll help her, you stay." She said, hurrying into the kitchen.

Buckley glanced over his shoulder, before standing up, "I'll help too." He said hurriedly, before disappearing into the kitchen as well.

Lindsey was pulling a pitcher of lemonade out of the fridge and Buckley hurried over and tried to take it from her. He looked quickly towards Abigail, who was distracted with cutting the garlic bread. Buckley leaned in towards his sister and whispered, "Stop with the third degree with Alison."

Lindsey gave him an offended look, "We just want to get to know her."

"What was that look you and Samuel shared after you found out where she worked?" he asked. Lindsey rolled her eyes, "I can't look at my husband?"

Buckley gave her an _'are you serious?_' look and she sighed. "I was going to ask if she'd gone to college but Samuel's look stopped me."

Buckley sighed, "Just lay off. She came here for some food, not to be grilled by my sister."

"Yeah, well, it isn't every day you bring a girl home."

"And if it keeps going like this I never will again." Buckley shot back.

"Guys, can you put the lemonade on the table?" Abigail asked, eyeing her children. Lindsey pulled the lemonade out of Buckley's grip and walked around him and into the dining room. Buckley grabbed the giant bowl of sauce, meatballs and sausages while Abigail carried the bowl of pasta and plate of garlic bread.

"Dinner is ready!" Abigail called into the living room.

They all placed the bowls and plates on the open spaces of the table, while Lindsey opened the window and called for the children to come inside.

Hal and Samuel walked into the dining room, while Jack stood up and walked with Alison into the room, smiling at her and mumbling something to her that made her cheeks go slightly pink. She was shaking her head and mumbling something back when Lindsey walked over to her and hurried her to her seat, "You'll be next to Buckley." She said happily, before sending a stern look at Buckley who was giving one back.

Jack took the seat at the head of the table while Abigail sat across from him. Samuel and Hal sat across from Buckley, with the seat across from Alison and next to Jack vacant. Lindsey and Samuel were quickly making three smaller plates and Lindsey brought them to the round table in the kitchen, where the three children sat patiently.

When Lindsey took her seat the whole table began to pass their plates around, asking whoever was closer to what to spoon something onto their plate.

"How much sauce, Alison?" Abigail asked, taking her plate. Alison shrugged, "Just a scoopful please, and a meatball."

Abigail smiled, scooping the amount on her plate and passed it back to Alison. "Thank you," Alison said, wondering if Abigail had heard her; the noise had suddenly picked up since dinner began.

Everyone laughed and smiled, all of them chatting happily in one conversation or many different little conversations at once. Jack was nice enough to fill Alison in on a few things while the conversation happened.

Hal and Samuel had always been close to Buckley since he was small, so Buckley saw both of them as blood brothers than in-laws. Hal had been away at a motorcycle convention in Florida for the last two weeks, and even though Hal was close to them, he had only called once to let them know he made it there alright. Jack whispered to Alison that she should expect to be ignored by Buckley for the night, while he chatted away with Hal.

Alison didn't mind though. She really liked the look that played on Buckley's face as he talked to Hal and Samuel and the rest of his family. He looked so happy, smiling brightly and looking completely _there_. The last two times she had spent with him he just seemed very laid back, even monotone. She really liked this happy, sunshine side of Buckley.

Conversations continued like that, Alison having to repeat a few things for Abigail when she asked her. By Six thirty all their plates were finally clean. Everyone began helping with the dishes, but Jack and Lindsey insisted Alison sit and relax, since she was their guest.

While the Salmon's and Heckler's cleaned up the dining room and got to work on the dishes, Alison explored the family room, studying all the family pictures hanging on the wall near the staircase.

Buckley was handling washing the dishes, and he could see Alison through the doorway leading out of the kitchen towards the front door. He kept glancing at her, wondering when she'd notice the pictures of Susie. He knew she was smart, and she'd figure out that this girl that looked like him and Lindsey was the sister he told her about the first day they met.

Alison had noticed the picture before though. She saw the mousy blonde haired girl in a picture in the family room and was exploring the wall by the stairs to find another.

She saw one of the three Salmon children; Buckley looked to be about two, Lindsey eleven and Susie twelve. They were sitting on the grass in the backyard with a few baby toys around them.

Alison really liked the peaceful look on all their smiling faces. She thought back to family photos of just her and her siblings and a bitter smiling crossed her features. She was beginning to resent this horrible thing she had in common with the Salmon's. Even if the two girls died under different circumstances, they were dead just the same. And both families wouldn't be the same from it. She could tell from the pictures. The smiles on Lindsey and Buckley's faces were different in the pictures as they got older, and they were different in real life too. She wondered if her smile had changed as well.

"Alison?"

She hadn't realized she was climbing the staircase to look at the pictures and jumped slightly to look down and see Jack giving her a curious look. His face suddenly became concerned and he walked up the stairs to her, "Are you alright?" he asked.

Alison looked a bit confused, but brought a hand up and touched her face. She was crying.

She hurriedly wiped her face as the Salmon's and Heckler's began walking into the family room, all of them within earshot of Alison and Jack and a few staring at her with concern as well.

She nodded, "Just, uh," She paused, racking her brain for an excuse. She didn't want to bring up Suzie or her sister, but why would she start crying while looking at pictures of the Salmon family?

She shook her head, "I just wish my family was as close as yours," She finally breathed out, a small smile on her lips. "You're all so close, it's different from my house." She explained. Jack smiled, waving her down the stairs, "No reason to cry over that. Come on, we're gonna play a few games."

Alison nodded, following Jack down the stairs. She took a seat at the edge of the couch next to Lindsey and across from Buckley. She glanced up at him, and he mouthed a _'thank you'_ to her. She nodded, and they all began a game of Monopoly.

* * *

><p>Buckley pulled the station wagon up to Alison's home; staring at her while she stared down at her hands.<p>

Buckley paused, wondering what to say. Finally, he managed, "Are you okay?"

She looked up at him, and shrugged. "Sorry I started crying."

He shook his head, "Well, considering everything that's going on in your family, it's understandable."

He paused, biting his lip as he thought it over, "And sorry I made you lie to my family. I sort of overlooked that you might get upset over some things,"

She shook her head, "I really thought I'd gotten all my crying done with when I left after she died. I was just upset over…the thing my family has in common with your family now." She explained, looking back down at her lap.

Buckley held in his sigh, "I've actually been ignoring that fact."

Alison gave a bitter laugh, "It's a bit hard to ignore."

Buckley nodded, staring at his steering wheel. "What did my dad say to you?" he asked suddenly.

Alison looked over at him, "When?"

"Before dinner. I saw him whisper something to you."

Alison smiled, a very real smile as her cheeks turned pink once more. "I told him I wasn't, but he told me he was glad his son was dating such a nice girl like me."

Buckley's cheeks turned pink as well, and he coughed awkwardly, "Well…thanks for telling him you weren't."

Alison nodded, "Hey, Buckley," She said suddenly, as if realizing something very important. He looked over at her, and she quickly leaned in and gave his lips a quick peck.

His face gained quite a bit of heat, and he was thankful it was dark in the car so she couldn't see. "Now you can say you've kissed a girl." She told him simply, hurriedly opening the passenger door, "Thank you for inviting me for dinner." She said quickly, closing the door and hurrying up the pathway to her house.

Buckley smirked, and watched to make sure she got inside her house before pulling away from the curb and driving home.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**

**Whoa did Taylor actually update this story and change a LOT of things?**

** yes she did.**

**I changed the girl's name because I wrote the first two chapters on a whim I guess you could say, and thought the name Taylor sounded good but then I regreted giving her my name. I went back, changed a few things, including her name (which i like A LOT more). so, sorry for everyone who read this story before and got confused. **

**Don't know when I'll update next. We'll see when inspiration hits me (plus i have 3 other stories i have to finish...) **

**thanks for reading! bye! I'll try to update soon.**


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